


Orange Crush Drabbles (Harry/Ginny)

by Antosha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Community: harry_and_ginny, Community: hpgw100, Double Drabble, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Multi-Drabble Mini-Epic, Post-War, Short, Shorts, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Triple Drabble, fic of a fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24948679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antosha/pseuds/Antosha
Summary: A bunch of drabbles exploring the relationship between Harry Potter and his little red-headed girl.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 22
Kudos: 68





	1. Cap in Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I will admit, I'm fond of redheads — always have been. Heck, I'm married to one. So perhaps it won't be a surprise to find that I spotted Ginny as Harry's eventual love interest early, from Chamber of Secrets on. After all, I figured, if the author is going to give us a Sleeping Beauty ending, and if we're going to have Ginny crushing all over Harry, that's got to have _some_ narrative payoff, right?
> 
> Also, I liked the two of them together. I liked their shared senses of humor and of justice, their passionate loyalty...
> 
> And, like I said, I'm fond of redheads. :-)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Once upon a time, back between the publications of HBP and DH, malaleen grumbled--fairly--that there was too much angst in H/G-land. And lo, it was so. And I thought, Hmmm. I shall play with this. ;-)

Ginny measured her days in handfuls of grain cast to the chickens; lengths of muslin boiled and cut into strips and spelled to deter infection; healing potions and reviving potions and potions to ease any heartache but her own.  
  
Feeding the chickens that afternoon, Ginny refused to look up. She refused to let hope pull her eyes toward the end of the lane where they had wandered so often over the past three years.  
  
No hope. No tomorrow. Just feeding chickens and boiling bandages and brewing bottles of Dreamless Sleep Potion to keep from dreaming of deep, bright, green eyes.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Harry’s days had been measured in curses and hexes and floods of adrenaline; no day had been complete in three years without a close brush with death, either for himself, for Hermione or for Ron.  
  
No more.  
  
It was over.  
  
As he walked stiffly up the lane to the Burrow, Harry’s mind filled as it had for three years with _her_. He knew just how it would be, just what he would say, just how she would answer. Just how soft her lips would feel on his.  
  
She was there, feeding the chickens, eyes downcast, but bright. Home. She is... “Ginny.”  
  
  
***  
  
  
Shocked to hear the voice that had whispered at the edges of her consciousness for three long years, she looked up, and seeing him, stepped forward.  
  
And tripped over a scurrying hen.  
  
Losing her balance utterly, Ginny pitched forward into Harry, knocking him off of his weary feet. Arse over teakettle they tumbled into the old clawfoot tub where her mother liked to feed the goats in the years when they kept goats.  
  
Harry began to chortle, feeling her weight warm on him. Ginny’s laughter joined his, and they lay there, weeping uproariously.  
  
“Welcome home,” Ginny giggled.  
  
They kissed.


	2. Making It Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Written for the harry_and_ginny drabble challenge "Tattoo." (HBP missing moment)

“Wish you hadn’t told Romilda that story about a tattoo,” Harry said, pulling Ginny against him as they snuggled in a secluded spot above the lake. “I’ve had fourth-year girls giggling at me all day.”  
  
“Poor boy,” Ginny smirked, running her hands over his chest in the _most_ distracting way.  
  
Harry tried to growl at her, but somehow it came out more as a sick moan. “How you going to make it up to me?” he squeaked finally.  
  
She smiled, first shyly, then with that sly fierceness that always promised good things. “Want to see if _I_ have any tattoos?”


	3. Woven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Set during the Horcrux Hunt — written pre-DH.

Her hair was like silk—a smooth sheet the color of a new penny, an uncovered ember or an ashwinder egg.

A single strand of that silk lay curled in RAB’s locket on his chest, his most secret, prized, dangerous possession. On cold, long nights, while Ron and Hermione slept, huddled together like lovers, he would take it out and bask in its fire, and seek solace in the ghost of the scent of flowers.

Imagining a time when, like a strand of silk or a fiery hair, he would be woven back into a whole, a life.

Into Ginny.


	4. Time (G--Harry/Ginny for hpgw100 prompt "Late")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)

Ginny lay upon the daybed, sweaty and annoyed. “LATE!” she grumbled.  
  
“It’s alright, Ginny,” Harry murmured, handing her a glass of water. “It’ll be okay.” He kissed her damp brow.  
  
“Bloody easy for you to say. You’re not the one like a beached whale in the sun.”  
  
“True.”  
  
“My family were all born _early_ , Potter. This is all your fault!”  
  
“True.” He couldn’t help grinning. It _was_ his fault, and he didn’t regret it—aside from her discomfort. “Rest, Ginny.”  
  
She rolled forward, pushing herself up on his shoulder. “Can’t rest. Feel like I need to…” She gasped. “It’s time.”


	5. Burnt (PG--Harry/Ginny for hpgw100 prompt "Cake")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Other characters/pairings: None this time. ;-)
> 
> Warnings: Action/adventure-y
> 
> Author’s Notes: An endgame drabble

Harry ducked as the explosion triggered by Voldemort’s death began to tear the Riddle house to bits around him. Harry stumbled to his feet, desperately looking through the flames for an exit.  
  
Voldemort’s corpse was already aflame, as were those of his Death Eaters.  
  
The air grew hot and thin. He was feeling faint.  
  
Blindly, with no thought of the Three Ds, he Apparated, just as the roof fell in…  
  
…and tripped, stumbled and fell into the apple orchard at the Burrow, collapsing into Ginny’s lap.  
  
“Harry! Merlin! You’re burnt!”  
  
“Piece of cake,” he wheezed, smiling as he passed out.


	6. About Time (Triple Drable for hpgw100--"Time")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Here is a drabble sequence written for the hpgw100 theme, "Time." It also happens to be a birthday gift for the lovely velvethope. Happy birthday!
> 
> Warnings: Mild sexuality (sorry, velvethope!); delayed gratification. ;-)

Harry turned at the sound of feet whispering across the moonlit Burrow grass.  
In the silver glow, she seemed carved out of marble, her skin impossibly pale. But the hair burned like flame nonetheless.  
  
She was in her nightgown, virginal, white, yet Harry’s thoughts were anything but pure.  
  
They had spoken a dozen words since he had arrived, and those had been about Bill and Fleur’s wedding.  
  
They didn’t speak now.  
  
With quick, light tugs, she opened the gown and let it fall.  
  
Gorgeous. Hair, nipples—flame on snow, her eyes bright black. She reached—  
  
“It’s not time,” he groaned.  
  


* * *

  
Ron had left the room for all of three minutes and Ginny’s jumper was on the floor, her bra above her breasts, his trousers at his knees.  
  
Who had initiated this? She couldn't say, and the urgency of it, of him, of her heartbeat, of him, was intoxicating and overwhelming and wonderful and terrifying.  
  
He moved up, his erection finding its way…  
  
His eyes were elsewhere, still out at the last ambush, out where they’d all almost died, Harry, Ron, Hermione.  
  
She peered into those dear, frightened eyes, and suddenly the passion melted. “It’s not time,” she said, hugging.  
  


* * *

  
It was exactly as it should have been—sunny, still. As Harry limped his way out of his cottage, she appeared exactly where he would have expected her to: beneath the willow tree in the garden. A blanket, two open bottles of butterbeer and a picnic basket.  
  
Harry found himself sinking somewhat stiffly into the blanket beside her, found himself melting into her embrace, found himself pouring himself into Ginny as he’d wanted to do for a very long time.  
  
Later, they lay in each other’s arms gazing up at the underside of the willow. “It’s about time,” they said together.


	7. Like, Wow! (Drabble--H/G for hpgw100 "Clueless")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Warnings: None.
> 
> Author’s Notes: A Jane Austen crossover? ;-)

Harry watched the blonde American bint jabber on about her clothes and her ‘popularity’ and get tied in knots about the guy who was obviously totally gaga over her.  
  
Mind, there were some laughs, but mostly it was dull. And humiliating.  
  
But Ginny was in his arms, so why complain?  
  
After it was over—after they’d snogged a bit—Harry shared his problems with the film. “I mean, come on, Ginny, how could anyone go on and on with someone so obviously in love with them and stay completely…” He stuttered to a stop.  
  
Ginny smiled wickedly. “Clueless,” she said.


	8. Desaparecida (PG--Harry/Ginny for hpgw100 prompt "Missing")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Warnings: A bit of angst...

Harry wakes with a start—his heart pounds and small sparks of panicked magic flare as his fingers seek what he knows won’t be there.  
  
Her side of the bed is empty.  
  
He is up, wand in hand before he has a chance to blink. Voldemort? No—gone. Years ago. Malfoy? No—contrite, happy not to be in Azkaban where his father died.  
  
Some new threat?  
  
Sweating, shaking, Harry stumbles into the sitting room.  
  
She is there, hair ablaze in the light of the candle she’s reading by. Concerned, bright eyes find his. “Okay, Harry?”  
  
He slumps. “You were… missing.”


	9. First September (PG--Harry/Ginny for hpgw100/hpgw_otp Special Occasions Challenge)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Summary: A hundred years go by all too quickly.
> 
> Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Character Death.
> 
> Length: 6 x 100 words exactly

Harry looked down at his green dress robes and—with a gulp—back at Ginny: white robes, fair skin, blazing look. “Mrs. Potter.”

“Mr. Potter,” she sighed softly, cheeks pinkening. “I… can’t believe…”

“This is what I meant,” he said, voice low, approaching her, “when I said I’d never leave you again. This was what I hoped.... Promised.”

“I know.” She smiled, and Harry glimpsed the face she’d shown him ten years before to the day: crying, laughing, waving goodbye.

No more goodbyes.

She beamed, tears streaming. “We’re _here_.”

He nodded. “Yes.” Shaking, he grasped her wedding robes’ fastenings. “Mrs. Potter.”

  
  
  


“Mr. Potter,” she laughed, pulling free. “Ten years! Ten years and they still fit!”

Harry admired her silk-clad form. “You look… great!”

“Git. You just want to take them off again.”

Grinning, he ran his fingers across one newly sensitive breast. “Can you blame me?”

Ginny shivered, and then smirked. “No. But they’re all waiting downstairs.” She frowned. “Harry? These… might not fit again.”

Harry’s breath caught. He touched her belly. “I’ll never care. Besides, I’ve always said you look better out of any robes than in them.”

“Never leaving?” she asked.

“Never.” He held his elbow out. “Mrs. Potter?”  
  


  
  


“Mr. Potter,” Ginny sighed. “Mr. Potter, the _elder_.”

“I’m forty-six,” Harry said. “Not a hundred!”

That earned him a small laugh. “Still… It seems wrong, today, celebrating without them.”

He smoothed the white silk; her robes had needed fewer alterations than his. “It’s Mary’s first Welcoming Feast. She’s being sorted. They’re not missing us.”

“But I’m missing them.”

“They’re fine. John will take care of her.”

“Even if she’s not sorted into Gryffindor?” Ginny pouted, but the fine smile lines told the truth.

“Even if she’s in Slytherin,” Harry teased. “The crowd’s waiting.”

She took his arm. “Mr. Potter.”  
  


  
  


“Mrs. Potter.” Harry grinned as his wife brushed out her hair, white and red mixed like fire and snow, and it took his breath away.

“Fiona’s Mrs. Potter too, you know,” she said over her shoulder.

“True. But not tonight. Only you tonight.” Even from behind, he could tell that she smiled. “Unbelievable.”

“Fifty years.”

“Sixty.”

“Oh, yes.” She turned and smiled, eyes bright. “That too.”

Harry returned her smile and thought about that small, sweet figure running after the train all those years ago. He thought of her face: red in battle, passion, childbirth, laughter. “Happy anniversary, Mrs. Potter.”

  
  
  


“Mr. Potter?”

Harry blinked at his wife. “Beautiful. You look...”

“Ridiculous,” she muttered. “White robes at ninety-five.”

“You don’t look a day over seventy,” he joked.

“Git.” Even grumbling, she managed a smile. “Probably scoping out the young girls at the party.”

“Nonsense,” he said, grinning. “They’re mostly our great-granddaughters anyway.”

She laid a fine hand on his. “I suppose you did promise, didn’t you?”

“Never leave you again,” he said, suddenly serious for no good reason.

“Yes.” She kissed him on the cheek and he trembled—not with passion, nor yet with age.

“Time to go, Mrs. Potter…”

  
  
  


“Harry.”

He started.

Misty blue eyes and white, flyaway hair. “Headmistress.”

“I thought I’d find you here tonight.”

“Luna…” Harry couldn’t look up. “Won’t they miss you?”

“The Welcoming Feast is done.” She drifted over, sitting beside him. “John’s worried.”

John. A good boy. Boy? Ninety-two. “I… needed to be. Alone.”

“I miss her too.”

“Yes.” He blinked back tears. “I promised, Luna. I promised I’d never leave her.”

“You didn’t. And it’s not as if you won’t see her again, is it?” She conjured firewhisky in two crystal glasses, and lifted hers. “Ginny.”

He nodded and raised his glass. “Ginny.”


	10. Aesthetic Arrest (R: drabble for hpgw100 prompt "Wicked")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Author's Notes: I don't know if this is quite what the mods had in mind… XD

As Ginny's awareness returned--as her blood returned to her brain from the other parts of her body — she noticed that her chest was heaving, but Harry's was still. She felt his heartbeat against her breasts, the insides of her trembling legs; otherwise he was as motionless as a statue.  
  
She stared up into his face; his hair was slick with sweat, his mouth open in a half-rictus, and his eyes unfocused.  
  
"Harry?" She touched his flushed cheek.  
  
He blinked and shuddered, his smile expanding to a predatory grin, and now it was her _chest_ that trembled. "Wicked," he said.


	11. The Second Bedroom (G — hpgw100 prompt "Jealous")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (PRE-DH canon)
> 
> Other characters/pairings: Ginny/OFC (you'll see!)  
> Warnings: None  
> Author’s Notes: Okay, I am so weird; I read the prompt and this was the first thing that popped into my brain. ^.^

Harry heard the silence the moment he entered their flat; he heard it and respected it.  
  
Slipping off his shoes, he tiptoed back past the sitting room and the kitchen to where he knew he would find them: in the second bedroom, curled together in a ray of late afternoon light—two heads of fine, bright red hair, one long and flowing, the other short and spiky. Mother curled around infant daughter on the huge armchair. Both fast asleep.  
  
Feelings surged through Harry, feelings he thought he knew but didn’t, really. Most stunningly bright. And one, unknown, unsuspected, unwelcome: dark.


	12. The Mirror of Her Dreams (PG — during DH)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (POST-DH canon — all following drabbles were written after the last HP book came out!)
> 
> This was a response to a 2-minute writing meme set by scriblix. The idea was, if I remember correctly, to take the title of the first book you saw, and use that as a prompt.
> 
> Set during the autumn term of _Deathly Hallows_.

Ginny had heard Ron talk about the Mirror of Erised, back before her first year. Back before Harry had shown up and she'd turned into a pink, flaming ball of goo whenever he walked into the room. At the time she hadn't felt any interest in finding the magic mirror—why? She knew her greatest desire.  
  
Six years later, that desire hadn't changed. The mirror told her so when she and Luna found it, on the run from the Carrows. But it was nice to see it.  
  
What Luna saw in there, Ginny was sure she didn't want to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: _The Mirror of Her Dreams_ is a wonderful, odd fantasy by Stephen Donaldson, who specializes in mostly-wonderful, odd fantasy, about an incredibly useless, vain New York JAP (Jewish American Princess) who spends all of her time looking at herself in mirrors and wondering why she doesn't see anything there; she gets pulled into a high-fantasy swords-and-sorcery world where mirrors are objects of power and becomes an actual _mensch_. o.O
> 
> Obviously, nothing to do with Ginny. Or at least, not much.


	13. Harry Potter: Trick and Treat—PG-13, Harry/Ginny for three_fates1987

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (POST-DH canon)
> 
> Written just before Halloween, 2007 for my birthday drabble challenge.

“Trick or treat!” Harry murmured moistly into Ginny's ear. She jumped gratifyingly; Ginny might not be ticklish, but her ears were incredibly sensitive.

“ _Prat_!” Squealing, she scooted down the couch and buried her head under an oversized pillow. Pressing his rare advantage, Harry went in for the kill.

After a brief wrestling match, they ended up tangled and well-snogged on the floor.

“I wonder,” Harry said, “does anyone actually ever choose _trick_?”

“What?”

“It's a choice, right? _Trick or treat_.”

“I'll show you a trick.” Her clothes, which she'd be attempting to tame, began to disappear.

Harry gulped. “Some trick.”


	14. Harry Potter/Pride & Prejudice: Fate and Fortune—G, Harry/Ginny for elmire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (POST-DH canon)
> 
> Again, not quite an HP/Austen crossover... but almost. ;-)

“What in Merlin's name are you reading, Harry?” Ginny was used to seeing her husband propped up in bed, looking through Auror Department memos, but there he was with a Muggle paperback.

“A friend gave it to Lily. She said she loved it, so I thought I'd give it a try.” He smiled, unusually thoughtfully.

“Good?”

“Great.”

“What's it about?”

“Two people who are in love with each other, but don't think they can be together.”

“Ah.” She got into bed and snuggled up beside him. “End well, you think?”

He looked at the book, then her, and grinned. “Yeah.”


	15. Flying (PG-H/G drabble)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (POST-DH canon)
> 
> I had this idea for a fic in the [F Words](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761559) series... But had abandoned it, since it no longer fit in the timeline. Then this week's prompt for hpgw100 was pride...

After the Harpies’ new Chaser scored her tenth goal, Owen pressed up between Davy and the hooded bloke. “Oh, now, here she comes!”  
  
Sure enough, Weasley zoomed over the Holyhead section, performing a barrel roll that showed off her flying skills and her very fit form.  
  
“Bloody hell,” grunted Owen.  
  
Davy laughed. “Oh, she’s a treat, no doubt! Flies like an angel and _looks_...”  
  
The redhead shot back to the center of the pitch.  
  
“Man who gets that’s a lucky bastard.”  
  
The figure beside Owen pulled back its hood, revealing a famous scar and a grin. “You have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always thought Harry would be _very_ conscious of just what a lucky bastard he was. ;-)


	16. Scents (G—hpgw100 prompt: Potions!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (POST-DH canon)
> 
> I always wondered what Ginny smelled in the Amortentia...

Ginny rested her head on Harry’s knee, watching the sun turning the horizon to flame.  
  
Harry watched her hair glow. “Ginny.”  
  
“Hmmm.” She didn’t turn.  
  
He sniffed, barely catching the scent of flowers that would always bring the image of her face blazing to his mind. “We talked about the Carrows, and when you decided maybe Snape wasn’t all bad.”  
  
“Hmmm.”  
  
He brought her fingers to his lips. _Treacle tart._ “Did Slughorn…?”  
  
“Hmmm?”  
  
“The first class—?”  
  
She looked up at last. Smiling. “Broom wax. Treacle tart.” Her eyes narrowed. “And butter.”  
  
“Butter?”  
  
Blushing brighter than the sunset, she laughed. “Butter!”


	17. Finding Your Spot (PG—hpgw100 Drabble: Comfort)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (POST-DH canon)
> 
> For the wonderful stmargarets, as a birthday present of sorts

They leaned together against what was left of his dormitory four-poster.  
  
Her head on his shoulder. Angry. Sad. Tired.  
  
But to touch him. To be close to him, still wearing the torn t-shirt… Hagrid.  
  
The smell of him.  
  
Blood.  
  
“So much to tell you.” His fingers threading through a hole in her jumper, rubbing, rough, along her ribs.  
  
“Mmm.”  
  
“Everything that’s happened. And missed you. And watching you fight…” His voice mesmerized, low, his chin scratching at her forehead. “How I feel… You…”  
  
“Feel?”  
  
He curled around her, pulling her close.  
  
Snoring.  
  
She burrowed into him. That answer would suffice.


	18. Now (hpgw100 drabble: eternal/eternity)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (POST-DH canon)
> 
> Warnings: Sadness and metaphysics

Ginny leaned against a yew not far from the site. _Too soon, Fred,_ she thought. _Too fast.  
_

She heard a quiet, familiar shuffle behind her. “Sorry.”  
  
She shrugged.  
  
“Eternity… It’s, well, _all time_ , yeah?”  
  
She shrugged again.  
  
“So…” She heard him struggle to express himself, but had no urge to help for once. “So, it’s _now_.”  
  
Blinking, she turned. “What?”  
  
“It’s now. Eternity's all _now_.” His face was pale.  
  
“I… I guess.” _Where did_ that _come from?_  
  
He nodded. “Dumbledore said, ‘Those we love never leave us.’”  
  
She seemed to see his green eyes as if for the first time.


	19. The Forest of Dean (G-Drabble, H/G, R/Hr)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (POST-DH canon)
> 
> This was a quick, post-DH one-shot for PotterFicWeekly's Baby, It's Cold Outside challenge.

Ginny dropped the log on the fire, and the sparks rose into the darkened canopy of the Royal Forest of Dean. "This doesn't seem so bad."  
  
From the other side of the circle, Ron snorted. Hermione patted him on the shoulder. "I agree," Hermione said. "This is quite pleasant."  
  
"It wasn't like this last winter," Harry muttered.  
  
"Yeah?" asked Ginny.  
  
"No food," said Ron, holding up a skewered sausage that he'd been grilling.  
  
"No idea what was happening in the outside world," said Hermione.  
  
"And..." Harry began.  
  
Ginny waited, and then prodded him with her elbow.  
  
"No you," sighed Harry.


	20. Waking to a Dream for demonic_letch (PG—Harry/Ginny from Blazing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Post-DH canon)
> 
> demonic_letch requested, "H/G. Something immediately following "[Blazing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391531)." (one of my favorite post-final battle fics, btw) But I'm less interested in the sexiness as much as the conversation/cuddliness afterward."
> 
> Ah. That we can do. :-)

Ginny wakes in her familiar Hogwarts four-poster; it is as if she has woken from an awful dream. She sits up--  
  
Harry sits at the foot of her bed. Staring.  
  
His torn jumper. His singed hair.  
  
It all floods back. Harry, in Hagrid’s arms. Fred.  
  
Fred.  
  
“You okay?” he whispers.  
  
She nods.  
  
They came up here to snog—maybe more, _finally_ more—but a couple of kisses and they’d both fallen fast asleep.  
  
At least the sun’s still up.  
  
“Can’t believe you’re here,” she sniffles.  
  
“Me neither.” He crawls close. Pulls her to him. “So,” he sighs. “Tell me. Everything”


End file.
